


Red Book

by goldendeere



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Most of canon world basics still apply, Oral Sex, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Sylvain Jose Gautier, post time skip ages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldendeere/pseuds/goldendeere
Summary: He could picture his eyes perfectly, so warm beside his paleness. His mouth by his neck instead, taking a careful bite that stung, but was made up for as soon as his lips closed around the punctures. He sucked gently and Felix could almost feel the warmth, the pulsing it sent through his body, the buzzing in his fingers and his lips. “Sylvain.” He murmured like a curse, or a prayer.Felix is alone in Gautier manor, and finds an erotic novel tucked among the large collection.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Red Book

Felix ran his fingers along dusty spines of books, taking in how different they all were. Some felt of old, hardened leather and others firm but wrapped in soft and worn fabric, thick as sacred texts or skinny as well used notebooks. Some titles were so worn it certainly had been years since they were read, though many of the remaining words indicated historical lineage across the world far beyond Fodlan. Another of the many shelves looked similar, but the words along the spines were unreadable to him, though certainly not to the owner of the estate. Felix knew the whole expansive library had been organized particularly, it was too like Sylvain to keep careful order over something like this— something under his ownership. Shelf after shelf, it spanned an entire room, grander than some churches he’d had the misfortune of visiting. High lanterns cast a dim orange glow that dripped down the books and hardly made it to the floor. Though the same could be said for near all of Gautier manor, the library felt haunted to those more faint hearted than Felix. In fairness, it was— just not by specters. Though without its owner present, he could almost understand the eeriness of its grandeur. 

There was a shelf that caught his eye as he scanned. The books within level of reach all appeared of similar age— he looked back, the other shelves were mixed, organized by aspects other than age. He eyed the case in front of him, they seemed recent. No, they were getting older as his eyes moved up the bookcase and the lengths and sizes were far more regular than the others. Felix slid one away from the rest, not all the way, and the cover had a landscape along the sea printed on it.

 _Cloaked Paradise_.

A novel, it seemed, something boring and filled with interpersonal conflict and wit, he could be sure. Curiously, he pulled another from the same row. 

_Dirty Sheets_.

He shoved the book back in. Perhaps not all of Sylvain Gautier’s library was so impressive. Still, he focused in on those books. He did not intend to read them, he only found them more interesting than pulling random tomes of philosophy to stare at their identical covers. Many of these looked like long mysteries, which probably wouldn’t be so bad if not tedious. Though many others bore resemblance to the romantic dramas, none drew enough interest to pull them all the way off the shelf.

Though one, when he pulled it out, made him take a second look. _Lure of the Unbitten._ Not a great name, but the cover held him longer; he pulled it towards his chest to observe it with a furrowed brow. The illustrated woman’s eyes were open wide, ruffled nightgown slipping off one shoulder. Behind her was a fanged figure, tall and dark like a shadow. A chuckle in his own throat surprised Felix, he had to wonder if this manor’s current owner had made this fantastical purchase, or if it was cruel irony that such a book made its home here before Sylvain. Felix opened to the first page but didn’t bother to do more than skim, it was dramatic prose of a late night chance encounter between this woman and the vampire believed by most not to exist. He flipped about forty pages forward until something caught his eye once again.

_—took her by the neck, just enough to imbue a thrill, though she was not afraid of him. When his lips came closer to her throat, the thrill was only more exciting, the glance of his fangs quickening her heart’s pace. He did not bite, not yet, not yet, but his hands grasped her head, suddenly possessive as their lips connected. Her body reacted like he was electrically charged, stunned into immobility._

Denying the pinkness of his cheeks, he read on.

_As though fevered and starving, she kissed back. His lips were not as warm as those of the fully living, but pushed with no less ferocity. Infatuating, so much so that his sudden separation made her stomach sink like she’d never receive something so decadent again._

_“Any part of my life is a curse to partake in.” He hissed, turning his back._

Felix snapped the book shut, it was ludicrous, written by an extravagant daydreamer. Exciting for those who fancied melodrama and flourish, but dreadful for anyone who didn’t. He slid the book back into place and left the library without a second glance. He did not know when Sylvain would be returning but he retained too much pride to continue reading any of those humiliating novels. And he _wouldn’t_ get so desperate for entertainment. The rest of the day he wandered the expansive grounds. Felix could tell that they had once been carefully upkept, and he could make fair guesses as to what led them to a decade of unfortunate neglect. They were clean, surely, but the hedges grew over and the fountains did not babble, making for near silence as he wandered. It seemed that not even birds got within too short a range of the manor. The trees were unmoving, the flowers unbloomed. Yes, he could make guesses, but the span of time was still empty.

Felix found the stable, bigger than it needed to be, even when both of the horses were here. The one that Sylvain hadn’t ridden away on tossed its head as Felix came near enough to see. He shook his head and left it to wander.

He slept that night in Sylvain’s bed. Felix had mocked him once, saying that he honestly expected he’d take him back to a coffin to share. The first nights he slept in that large bed alone he felt out of place, but he’d slept here before, it would be ridiculous to pass it up because he felt too prideful to use a lover’s bed. The guest rooms he had peered into weren’t dusty, but they felt… staged, like they weren’t meant to be resided in. A decade since anyone had stayed in them as well, and they almost _did_ feel haunted to Felix. He didn’t really think so, but they were too unsettling to stay in. Sylvain’s room was comfortably worn, lived in despite the ornate furniture. Some of his books were in here, Felix could imagine that they interchanged every couple of weeks. There was an arrangement of flowers on the large vanity, certainly placed there just because Felix would be there alone, as they were next to some other things Sylvain had left for him to use. Clothes, extra blankets and furs, soaps that smelled sweet and masculine, even a pair of woolen gloves. Thoughtful, but the bouquet was overkill enough to have him roll his eyes. The blooms were primarily red which clearly matched the central colors of this room and a few white which stood brightly against the dark wood of the furniture. Felix couldn’t name any of the types other than the roses. They were already beginning to look limp. Felix hadn’t touched them, wasn’t sure how to take care of them at all, and it didn’t even occur to him to bring them any extra water.

He fell asleep easily in the lustrous room that night, taking full advantage of all the amenities left for him. 

The next day he stayed in the comfort of the clothes lent to him, and explored the treasures displayed in every corner of the mansion. Weapons, armor, religious relics, and so much art. A lance which twitched and a shield that pulsed like a heartbeat were displayed most lavishly, and Felix had to convince himself he was not imagining things when their energy made his stomach churn. He did not dwell, instead getting drawn in by a particularly attractive dagger, he felt the urge to pry the case for it open to get a better look at it, but his mood soured further when he came upon a large case with many small items. Near the center there was a set of fangs, certainly not of an animal or monster, but ripped at the root from the mouth they had come from. He quit looking at the Gautier collection.

Felix crossed by the library when he was intending to return to the kitchen (generously filled with things Sylvain didn’t need) and stopped in his tracks without thinking about it. All the time he spent wandering… his tolerance for doing so little was dwindling, but he shook his head and continued to the kitchen. The evening began to glow, Felix heaved a sigh and drew the curtains of the master bedroom closed. He was tired of fiddling around in waiting, he fully expected for Sylvain to have returned by now, but there had been no sign of his arrival of course. He flipped through the books currently housed in the bedroom, but he couldn’t stand them. Flowery prose, strategic theory, one such cryptic mystery novel that he couldn’t bear to parse.

Yet it would be stupid to wait this long and then leave.

His face set with defensive conviction, and he marched out of the bedroom. His gait was that of a man who’d start a fight if anyone would cross him. He reentered the library for the first time since he’d discovered its oddities, slamming the doors inward like he was attempting to reclaim any pride he was about to drop. He retraced his path to the shelf organized by age, and his fingers hovered over the spine of the book he had hurriedly shoved away before. It was easy to find, in his rush he hadn’t pushed it all the way back to align with the row, it stood out against the rest of the neatness. 

He exhaled; it was just a book. He pulled it out with a certain resignation and held it close to his side as he returned to the bedroom, walking with more poise.

There was a plush chair he could have easily settled into, he remembered once that Sylvain had woken before him, the sky had been inky black past the window. He had his long legs slung carelessly upon the window sill and a single candle lit at his side to light the book in his hand. Felix had pretended to be asleep for a while longer. Now, Felix kept the curtains pulled and flopped onto the bed. This time, he opened the book back to the very beginning, rereading the meeting of the vampire and the young maiden.

At first, she feared what he was capable of, and knew that she could not trust him so easily, even if his charm would make it easy. Even when she rebuffed him she wondered if the legends had been true, the ones of kind acts from the shadows. Though, there were just as many to suggest otherwise. She followed him, during a foggy night, back to his home— a mansion much too large for just him, and far deeper into the forest that anyone would ever find without guidance— where he questioned her intentions of pursuing him.

Felix grew pink with the uncanny nature of the story. He wondered again if Sylvain had actually ever read this. He had to hope that there were some books in his collection he wasn’t closely familiar with.

The maiden was suddenly afraid, but something kept her rooted in place. She insisted, pleading that she meant no harm. It was as if a dark fog surrounded as he drew near to her and her heart raced. Though it was not the kind of excitement that made her want to turn tail, she wanted to reach forward, discover what his skin was like against her fingers. He stepped closer, she stared at his lips, the sharp points of his canines as he spoke swiftly. She stood her ground, and suddenly his charm seemed to come back, beginning to believe her reasons were just foolhardy. He allowed her to stay, entertained her, kissed her. She returned days later and the novel seemed to take a sharp turn.

It described touches so deeply and closely that Felix tried not to think about it too hard. They laid in front of a hardly utilized fireplace, warm, comforting...

Felix woke with a start, the cold air he sucked in was sharp enough to snap him out of any sleepy daze. The candle at the bedside was still lit, over halfway burned by now. He shook his head at his carelessness for dozing… especially with the book still next to him on the sheets. He had to scan the dim room, extra carefully at the shadowed corners, because the voice of his dream sounded to be right in his ear. 

“Your heart is beating out of your chest. I can hear it.” The voice had whispered.

The slim, dark haired vampire of the novel had easily shifted shape within his dream. Grown taller, broader at the shoulders, and bulked up throughout. His hair curled till it was those loose red waves that tickled his neck.

“It’s making me so, so hungry.” He had murmured right into his ear, it had always sounded just like Sylvain. That had been when he’d jolted awake, and his head fell back against the extravagant pillows with a sigh. It was ridiculous of him to be so fixated to Sylvain’s absence. It had only been five days, but he still felt much like a mistress abandoned for business as he spent his time alone in such a large manor. Especially while he wore the soft, flowing underclothes that Sylvain had left for him with a wink. He hadn’t touched them for days out of pride— he thought of what Sylvain had said as he departed every time he looked at them.

“You’re welcome to make yourself completely at home.” A coy smile. “Please do, in fact.”

He ran his hand along the shirt, it was far more pleasant than he ever cared to look for in his own garments. And seeing as he was laying in Sylvain’s oversized bed to read trashy romance and nap, he may as well be more at home here than at his permanent residence. He was a consort wasn’t he?

He sighed greatly, hand falling to his side and knocking into the discarded novel. His head turned to it and he flipped it over, still on the same page as what he’d dreamt. Sylvain— now so easily interchangeable with this nameless vampire in his mind— traced cool fingers along the clavicle of the equally nameless main character. It was… way too easy to put himself in her place. To imagine the tips of Sylvain’s fingers on his chest as the book described so carefully. Felix fondled himself and closed his eyes. It wasn’t anything like his touch, too small and hesitant. He swallowed hard and groped his chest more firmly, it was too rough, but he opened his eyes and kept reading.

_His fingertips just barely caressed the most sensitive parts of her breasts, tracing the inward curve of her waist. She jumped at each touch, like her body was brand new. His snow white lips followed his hands, and with so many moments of quivering anticipation, they brushed her velvety folds. She gasped—_

Felix’s hand followed the described path, like it was an order, though his fingers stayed over his clothes. He let his eyes flutter shut and his hand palmed his lower belly, picturing the scene of the novel; the descriptive words for this woman’s body could be so painfully unattractive, but he ignored them. A dim castle with a vast library where the woman was laid bare over a wooden table amongst the overstocked shelves. Felix spread his limbs as she did, pulling up the hem of his shirt, just far enough for the air to tickle his lowest ribs. The vampire— Sylvain, his mind’s eye made him believe— loomed above, fully clothed and buzzing with anticipation. But he would be patient, watching with a spark in his eyes and a playful smirk just hardly hiding his sharp teeth. Felix closed his eyes again, slipping his hand back up his shirt; it was colder than he thought, a gasp was pulled from him when his fingers brushed his nipple. He did it again and arched his back though there was nothing there for him to roll his hips against.

His teeth caught at his bottom lip, his thighs pressed together for just that minimal friction against his silky underclothes. He was impatient, if Sylvain were there this would last longer, but Felix’s hand shot between his legs to roughly grind against his fingers. The jolt of pleasure was muted by the clothes he still wore. He could just slip a hand underneath, make this even quicker so he could forget this even sooner. Instead he quickly peeled his bottoms off, catching a glimpse of the open book as he tossed them away.

Sylvain… he squinted his eyes shut and pictured the trail down his body till his face was between Felix’s legs. His fingers warmed to his lips and he hissed, letting his hips start a rhythm. Sylvain’s tongue— poised and passionate— lapped him and he gripped his pale thighs. He groaned as he teased the underside of his clit, circling and pressing, attempting to breathe carefully through his nose. Sylvain held his legs far apart, Felix started to shake as he grew wetter. The slippery glide made his knees pull together and he couldn’t help his mouth falling open.

He could picture his eyes perfectly, so warm beside his paleness. His mouth by his neck instead, taking a careful bite that stung, but was made up for as soon as his lips closed around the punctures. He sucked gently and Felix could almost feel the warmth, the pulsing it sent through his body, the buzzing in his fingers and his lips. “Sylvain.” He murmured like a curse, or a prayer. His eyes fluttered, he rubbed his clit, rolled his hips into it. He couldn’t open his eyes or the illusion would break, his breath was shaking but he was too frantic to notice. Two of his fingers slipped into himself with the rhythm of his hips, actually being rather delicate with himself as they came back out even more slick. Nearly feeling the warmth of Sylvain between his legs and his own blood on his neck, it pooled in his stomach, his knees knocked together—

“On any other day I’d be sad that you’ve started the fun without me.”

Felix jumped out of his skin, exclaiming and pulling his hand away from his thighs like he’d been shocked. He leaned atop his palms and whipped his head to the voice, now clear and real in the air rather than his fuzzy imaginings. The door was half open and he was standing in front of the vanity, an overcoat hung over one arm, though the low light provided little more of the state he’d returned in.

“But it‘s a treat to see how much you’ve missed me, so I’m more than happy to find that you’ve gotten comfortable without me.” Sylvain said with a smirk, his weight sitting casually on one leg. He began to fold the coat and set it aside.

“How long were you perched over there staring?” Felix snapped. His mind was too blurred with adrenaline and lingering arousal to compose himself further. Even though he could have been more dignified there was not much chance to save face. Even after what was likely long travels, he did not look worn or windswept, his eyes were more lively than ever.

Sylvain’s grin became more fond as he strode smoothly towards the bed. “Just long enough.”

“It would make this place far less of a ghost town for you to stop creeping around, you’re in your own home, what use is it to sneak in here.” Felix said, his eyes stayed focused closely onto Sylvain’s face as he approached. His eyes were sharp and watchful.

“You may have been more distracted than you thought, I was making no particular effort to hide myself. Caught in a fantasy maybe?” Sylvain’s focused eyes shifted to Felix’s side.

Felix’s heart dropped, he forgot it was there. His arm shot out to snap the open face book shut. The illustration on the cover was visible one moment before Felix shoved it away, sending it flying off the other edge of the bed. It clattered to the ground as Sylvain lifted one skeptical brow down at Felix, who no longer met his insistent eyes.

Sylvain strode around the room, seemingly unrushed, but he retrieved the book far before Felix was able to scramble to that edge and save himself the embarrassment. Sylvain gently righted the bent pages and closed it to find the title, right as he did Felix gripped the wrist that held the book, but stopped there. He knew he could not wrench it away, the grasp was instead a warning, or maybe just a plea. To forget this, to go easy on him for being so frivolous and pathetic. 

Sylvain’s eyes swiped across the title and soaked in the cover. He gave its pages a rapid flip as the curve of his lips broadened. “A fantasy…” he crowded Felix as he easily pulled his arm free, then laid the book to rest on the bedside, “perhaps I’m only vain, but your novel of choice has me feeling pretty adored. Like you missed me...”

Felix looked him square in the chest, not daring any higher. He was fortunate that Sylvain had not had the time to relax further and unbutton his shirt down to his ribs, as he tended to. Felix’s body followed suit as Sylvain stepped forward. Felix didn’t speak, his lip only curled distastefully at the thought of admitting adoration of any kind and that his actions already did as much. Sylvain’s face leaned into his view, just inches from his own face, but Felix’s eyes stayed steady, trying to look through him. Though, his chest fluttered as he came so close.

“If you’ll have me stay with you, shall I fulfill that daydream?” Sylvain whispered, his pause of movement finally drew Felix’s eyes to his. 

“Obviously you should stay.” Felix said shortly, he followed up just as quickly, “The bed belongs to you.”

He looked pleased, Felix couldn’t stand looking right at him anymore. “It’s an honor as always, Felix. No consideration of ownership, I only wish to make up for my absence tenfold, and if I your need is physical—“

“Quit talking like that.” Felix interrupted. He tugged Sylvain’s wrist to make him lean, and tilted his own chin up. It began simply, if they had separated sooner it would have been chaste. However, Sylvain’s body pressed in and his hands rounded his waist with confident grip. Felix shivered, his fingers were still cold from the chilly night air and they skidded along his still bare hips. He took a step back and Sylvain easily took that as his sign to get Felix back on the bed, surrounding him with his weight. Felix tried to cover up how his breath caught in his throat. He was bigger than Felix’s imagination had recreated, he was the only thing he could see now, the candlelight making him glow at the edges. His hair looked like embers, and Felix’s face heated up as if it were.

Sylvain waited not a moment more to feel Felix’s warm skin on his own, caressing the pale stretch of his throat with his lips— Felix’s heart leapt. He craned his head, arched his back, and tensed as he anticipated the burning sting of a puncture. He held his breath, but it did not come. Sylvain kissed the other side of his neck and the soft touch of his cool hands on his bare hips made him gasp. A second shiver set the hair at his nape on end, Sylvain’s hands came upwards to drag the loose linen shift up his chest. He kissed the spots his hands brushed, then trailed his grasp up Felix’s restless arms, pinning them down carefully. Not too much pressure, just enough to hold.

He captured Felix’s lips again, and Felix leaned into them hungrily. 

“Returning to this after a trip is pretty decadent,” He murmured into Felix’s breaths. He pulled away to catch his eyes again; Sylvain’s flickered between Felix’s, “you should be getting that affection poured on you since I was the one who left you so long. So, tell me more about your wishes, what did you long for?”

“Just,” Felix began quickly, only so that Sylvain would quit saying things like that, he didn’t know what he should say, “you. Just do what you do.” He blurted, stuttering from that poor excuse for an answer. He frowned when he saw how quickly saying that fueled Sylvain’s self satisfaction.

“I knew you stayed all this time for a reason.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

What Felix had meant was do what he, a vampire, would do. But his lips blocked further explanation.

“What did I do? In your daydream, before my impatience had me rudely interrupt.”

Felix stared firmly away. “Your hands.” He didn’t look to see his broad grin. His cool fingers returned to his chest, moved slowly as if he were counting the heartbeats under his skin and memorizing the way his waist curved. Felix was reminded again of his size as his fingers wrapped around his middle. He squeezed, just a tease before continuing lower. His hands easily overlapped each part of him in turn.

“I’m glad your dreams of me are cordial to your needs as well.”

“You stayed quiet too.” He retorted.

Another insufferable grin, but he did as suggested. He allowed his hands to do the work once again, caressing his thighs till his fingers traced the edges of his lips. Felix appreciated his brevity this time, pressing his body close and sliding his fingers along his slick clit to pull his lips apart. Felix exhaled noisily, watching his head as he returned to kissing his chest. His fingers stretched him easily, curling into his walls and pressing up as they came back out. Felix’s thighs clenched onto his arm. He could feel quick grazes of Sylvain’s teeth on his exposed sternum, distracted swiftly with the flat of his tongue, which lingered. 

Sylvain pulled away after one last prolonged kiss, moving Felix’s legs so that he may lay between them cleanly, not an action that wasn’t smooth. And none too rough. Felix’s lip twitched watching him lower his head, lips parting for him to catch a brief glint. Felix’s hips curled up and his fingers wound into Sylvain’s hair.

“Fuck.” He said lowly, Sylvain had followed through seamlessly, tongue gliding right inside him. Felix’s hips bucked, Sylvain followed up by pressing them down with firm hands, where before they had cradled the back of his thighs. Felix whined, but his grip on his roots was still able to demand more of his attention. Sylvain gave it without further coaxing, if he hadn’t been away from his home so long he likely would have been a tease. Felix hated that. Sylvain knew.

He still tried to move his hips in time, wordlessly asking to take it faster still. Sylvain retracted one hand, pressing two fingers into Felix right under his tongue, Felix squirmed. He pursed his lips around his clit, sucking and curling his fingers slowly. Felix’s stifled moans were enough encouragement for the speed of Sylvain’s fingers to escalate. 

His fingers rapidly pressed the sensitive spot just within him, and Felix moaned freely. Sylvain could twist his fingers every time to caress it with each touch. Knowing there was no one else around to hear, Felix stopped covering his mouth. He swore loudly when Sylvain sucked again, the wiggle of his hips futile.

Listening to Felix’s rising pitch, he tongued the spots that made him twitch and keen. He finally backed away with a wet smack, his fingers slowing to a comfortable thrust as he began to slowly suck a bruise into his inner thigh. Allowing just a short pause from the relentless stimulation, Felix’s grip on his hair loosened and his arm fell. His hips quivered, but he was also able to think for just a moment, and to remember something.

“Are you hungry?” he asked breathlessly.

“Don’t worry about me…” His lips dragged along his thigh, like he wasn’t fully listening. “Tonight is for you.”

Felix gripped Sylvain’s hair again, a familiar glare of shameful stubbornness boring into him from Felix’s sharp eyes. “If that’s true, then _feed_.” It was a demand, but desperate begging almost seemed to bleed through, more than he ever expected from Felix.

“Please.”

_Oh._

Sylvain lit up with a full, toothy smile. “I aim to please.” He shifted Felix without having to be told again. He pushed one leg up by the back of his knee, leaning on that side so his wrist could stay at the perfect angle to finger him. “You are the best treat in all of Fodlan.” He stroked his leg, eying it like the meal it was. 

“Shut up.” Felix whined, because he couldn’t say please again. He closed his eyes and waited, gripping the sheets by his head. 

The two fingers inside him thrusted with steady focus, Sylvain’s palm pressed flat to his clit as his wrist curled. Sylvain’s lips reconnected with his leg, twisting it so he could reach the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Carefully, his fangs lowered and there was just a second that they pressed Felix’s skin teasingly light, it made his heart skip, before they pierced him. Felix had braced, but Sylvain curled his fingers so that he burst with something of a moan or yelp. The sting even sweetened when his fingers curled faster. And once again his brain’s recreation of the dizzying draw of his own blood was nothing to the reality.

His toes curled, though he wasn’t sure he could feel them. His eyelids fluttered, he couldn’t tell if his hips were paralyzed or if Sylvain still held them down. His fingers quickly built back up to that frantic pace, Felix arched and knew he no longer had control of his voice. It came up on him quickly then, feeling especially near at every suck on his leg.

“Sylvain!” He grasped the back of Sylvain’s head. His other muscles must have tensed and fought, Sylvain’s fingers were merciless, but Felix’s senses were completely absorbed by the impending tidal wave of his orgasm. He scrabbled at his hair, still desperately begging his name with unspecific demands. Though, Sylvain’s ears heard loud and clear: don’t, _never_ stop. He didn’t let up for a second, unhindered by Felix’s squirming. He tasted _fantastic,_ and the sound of his unfettered moans made his flavor so much sweeter.

Felix’s voice suddenly peaked, a loud, desperate whimper that made Sylvain crack his eyes open so he could watch his climax. His back arched, shaking and screaming from ecstasy that made him feel he’d shatter. Sylvain couldn’t catch sight of his burning face, but the wet sound around his still thrusting fingers made him slow his lips and instead press his thumb to Felix’s clit. His whimpers still wavered, high and blissful with Sylvain curling up into him with carefully lessening fervor. Sylvain flattened his tongue along the punctures he’d made, allowing Felix to slowly come down from such a high.

His back fell back to the mattress, hips beginning to convulse with sensitivity. One of his hands gripped at Sylvain’s wrist, halting him firmly. Sylvain lifted his head, Felix was lying like a ragdoll but for the arm that held him tight like an anchor to his own body. He hadn’t opened his eyes, chest heaving.

Sylvain grinned watching him catch his breath and flicked the thumb that teased his clit. Felix whined and twitched again, and his wrist was grasped tighter. He only let go when Sylvain made to pull his fingers out, and Felix was prepared enough to only inhale sharply when he did. He allowed Felix a few more quiet moments, using his tongue lightly to keep the idle drip of his thigh from reaching the sheets. Felix himself also said nothing. Some of his sense was returning, and the burning of his face did not start to subside as he began to process. His hand was gently lifted from his side, and he felt a kiss on his palm.

“Hold this here.” Sylvain requested and pressed his fingers to his inner thigh, and Felix obeyed and listened to his soft steps out the door.

Felix was grateful for the moment to compose himself, even if it wasn’t Sylvain’s purpose. After a few moments of real silence, he sat up, and was first met with his own mess. Sylvain hadn’t let a drop of blood escape his lips, but the dark spots of his own spend concentrated between his legs, starkly obvious. He scooted his hips away from it and flushed, feelings of guilt mixing with his shame. He lifted his fingers to check the punctures, if only as distraction. They were dark, usually they were not in a place so easily visible to himself. They stung more now that he was in his own mind, but not so unbearable that he couldn’t prod curiously. They had mostly healed through whatever magic kept Sylvain passable among the living. He replaced his fingers there, stretching the feeling back into his other leg, but it trembled as he did.

Sylvain returned before long, suspiciously quiet. He greeted him with a genuine smile, lifting a tray in his hands like he’d brought a gift. He set it at the edge of the bed and sat himself beside it.

“Bring that leg over here.” Sylvain cocked his head cheerfully. On one end of the tray was a damp cloth, gauze, and a lightweight bandage. Felix obeyed again, scooting closer and swinging his leg onto Sylvain’s open lap. He lifted Felix’s hand away with more care than was necessary, and began cleaning him up, beginning with his fingers, though the wound hardly needed the attention anymore. Felix let him do it, for the ceremony of a lover treating an injury, because Sylvain surely just wanted to show that care. Felix eyed the rest of the tray. It was generously piled with breads, cheeses, some jerky, a glass of water, and even a sweet looking pastry that Sylvain certainly knew he would not care for. “To get your energy back up after feeding. Since our situation is not so demanding this time, you can relax and refuel.” He gave him a wink.

Felix rolled his eyes, choosing some bread to nibble while he watched Sylvain’s hand smooth over the secured bandage and then linger. He was glad that he wasn’t deep in the forest with Sylvain who was too hungry to think, lost blood making Felix’s fingers freeze faster. Sylvain had been greedy, Felix could still grip his sword, but he knew it would have been dizzying to make a full swing. Sylvain protected him, clearly he wasn’t within his own mind, but guarding him furiously until the air went still. He had kissed Felix till his lips hurt.

“Not that I really needed you to, but you plenty made up for your trip.” Felix muttered.

Sylvain lifted his chin with a finger. “You’re as sweet as you taste.” He leaned in to kiss his forehead, then his cheeks. Miraculously, Felix let it happen until he kissed his lips, slow and purposeful until he backed away, still holding his chin to face him. “I’m glad that you stayed. I had been looking forward to returning to you like this. Well, not exactly like this at all. How do you feel?” His fingers traced the bandage.

“Fine. Fine...” He repeated with less agitation. “You took longer than I thought you would.” Felix replied simply, chewing his bread. 

“Sorry about that.” Still smiling.

Sylvain slipped behind Felix, his chest open to be leaned against. As quickly as Felix conceded, Sylvain wrapped his waist with his arms and tucked his chin onto his shoulder. Sylvain was so quick to reintroduce the familiarity between them that was long lost to the years, Felix wasn’t sure what to think of it. 

“Will you stay a while longer?”

Felix didn’t say anything at first.

“It would be stupid to leave after waiting that long.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is SO SO indulgent and the next chapter will certainly be just as explicit and indulgent because I love making things for ME. But if ur into this... come join me and enable me further.  
> HUGE shout out to Graytrickster on ao3/@grayvamp on twitter for helping me out in getting through my writing! He's making some really amazing Dimiclaude stuff that I cannot recommend more if you're looking for more to read, he's an incredible writer!!


End file.
